An Accidental Murder
by imnotokaywiththerunning
Summary: Mrs. Hughes becomes the latest victim of a string of crimes in Downton Village. Set season 1


The sun was shining brightly in the sky with not a rain cloud in sight. Mrs. Hughes couldn't have hoped for a better half day off. Especially since the past week had seen Downton bombarded with rain storm after rain storm. She smiled happily to herself as she strolled through Downton Abbey's drive toward the village. There was an open-air market today and she actually had the time to look around. This was looking out to be a perfect day!

Mrs. Hughes waved hello to the postmistress as she weaved her way through the various stalls selling their wares. She hurried along out of sight. Mrs. Wigan was one for a gossip but Mrs. Hughes was not in the mood for conversation just now. She was content to merely wander through the market exchanging small talk with the various vendors. Most she knew by name but there were a few new stalls today she wanted to explore.

A new book stand caught her attention. She was browsing their selection of new fiction when a smooth voice caught her ear.

"Care to try a chocolate covered blueberry, miss?"

A darkly handsome young man held out a small tray filled with small chocolates. He grinned charmingly at her. "They're the best in the village!"

"Oh, why not?" Mrs. Hughes asked and carefully picked up the chocolate the young man indicated. She popped the morsel into her mouth and was instantly hit by a rush of flavor, barely refraining from moaning out loud. The young man had been right. These _were_ the best chocolates in the village. These were by far the best she'd had in her life, though she'd go to her grave before she told that to Mrs. Patmore.

"Oh my, that was delicious! Thank you." The young man gushed at her praise. She looked over the rest of the candy and chocolates he had displayed. She really shouldn't, but… "Do you have any pralines, Mr...?"

"Siocled. And of course!" Mr. Siocled* moved swiftly behind the table and began to rattle off a seemingly endless string of candies. "I have pralines, truffles, many chocolate covered fruits. Though my blueberries are the best. They are just ripe enough to carry a bit of tartness along with the sweetness of the chocolate."

He would have gone on forever, Mrs. Hughes concluded, had she not interrupted him with a small laugh. "Thank you, Mr. Siocled, but I think I'll just have a small packet each of the pralines and the chocolate blueberries. They were truly exquisite."

Mr. Siocled smiled and boxed up her purchase. Mrs. Hughes pulled her coin purse out of her handbag and made to open it when Mr. Siocled shouted, "No! Wait!"

Mrs. Hughes was so startled by his outburst that the large black bird that swooped down to knock her coin purse to the ground nearly sent her into an outright panic. She watched in astonished horror as the bird neatly scooped up a half crown before Mr. Siocled jumped around his table to shoo it away. He picked up the purse and shoved it back into Mrs. Hughes handbag.

"I'm so sorry," he said. Then glowered at the sky angrily. "Those crows have been doing that all day!"

"They've what?" Mrs. Hughes was beginning to recover from her shock, but she kept an eye on the sky all the same.

Mr. Siocled looked at her sympathetically. "Here," he said handing her the box of chocolates and then speaking over Mrs. Hughes's protests of payment. "It's the least I could do. I should have warned you earlier. We've had to tell people to be discreet handing over money. Those crows are on people faster than lightning." He shook his head. "I wish I knew why they were stealing money. What does a crow need money for anyway?"

Mrs. Hughes shrugged bewildered. "Thank you, Mr. Siocled. I'll just be on my way."

She watched the sky all the way back to the Abbey, jumping at every shadow.

* * *

"You'll not believe what's happening down in the village," Mrs. Hughes began over a cup of tea upon her return. She was standing in the kitchens while Mrs. Patmore oversaw her maids' preparations for dinner.

Mrs. Patmore huffed. "I'll not believe anything I've not been told."

Mrs. Hughes chose to ignore that. "There are a group of crows stealing money right out from people's hands!"

"I'd heard about that," chimed the scullery maid, Daisy. "They say it's been happening for a few weeks."

Both Mrs. Patmore and Mrs. Hughes stared at her incredulously.

"And just who's 'they?'" the cook demanded. The girl only shrugged and went back to her work. Mrs. Patmore turned to Mrs. Hughes. "How did you find out about it?"

"It happened to me!" Mrs. Hughes took a gulp of her tea and then continued. "Went to pay a nice young man for some chocolates and a foul thing attacked. Knocked my purse right out of my hand!"

"How much did the crows take you for?" Mrs. Patmore chuckled.

"Half a crown." Mrs. Patmore looked suitably shocked.

"Wonder how come they're taking money?" she mused. "Looks like they'd be better off stealing food."

Mrs. Hughes shrugged and finished her tea. "I doubt we'll ever know." She clicked her tongue as she set her empty cup near the sink. "I'd better get back to work."

"Aye, you'd better," Mrs. Patmore called to her as she left the kitchen. "And you'd better keep an eye out for thieving birds!"

Mrs. Hughes rolled her eyes at the cook's gleeful cackle. She should've kept her mouth shut. She was never going to hear the end of this.

* * *

Mrs. Hughes's review of the accounts was interrupted by a hesitant knock and a quiet, "Mrs. Hughes?"

She turned from her desk to find William standing sheepishly outside her open door. She glanced at the clock. The boy should be helping Mr. Carson set the dining room table, not loitering uncertainly in her doorway. Perhaps he was homesick again. Curious, she beckoned him into the room and asked, "William? Is there something you needed?"

"Well," he said shuffling nervously into her sitting room. He swallowed and then thrust a small envelope towards her. Mrs. Hughes took it curiously. "Here. I thought, well, I'd heard about earlier today in the village. I'm sorry. I didn't think that-"

"William." He froze at the sharp rebuke. Mrs. Hughes was staring bemusedly at the half crown in her hand that had fallen from the open envelope. "What on Earth is this for?"

"The crows," William said as if that were all the explanation needed.

Mrs. Hughes's eyebrows raced to her hairline. "Pardon?"

"That's the money the crows stole from you. At least that's what Daisy said." He frowned. "Did they take more?"

"No, they just took the half crown," Mrs. Hughes answered, still lost. She shook her head bewildered. "But why are _you_ giving this to me? You didn't steal it."

William lowered his eyes to the floor and began to wring his hands. "It's my fault the crows are stealing all that money, Mrs. Hughes."

"Your fault?" Mrs. Hughes leaned back in her chair. "Tell me. How exactly are crows stealing money your fault?"

William drew in a deep breath. "It all started a couple months ago. I was out by the pond on my half day eating a sandwich. I noticed a couple of crows hanging about so I just gave them part of it. Now every time I go to the pond they're waiting. I always bring them some bread and they started bringing me things. Little things like shiny pebbles or twigs or pieces of fabric." He looked guiltier with every word. "Then one day one brought a sixpence coin. I thought it'd found it on the ground somewhere. I used it to buy some better bread for them because they had found it and I thought they'd like it. They did. They brought me a few more small coins after and every time they did, I came back with the better bread. I didn't really think anything of it. But now they're bringing me almost a pound every time I go to the pond. I think they're hoarding it until I show up, but I don't know what to do. They're stealing money and I started it, but I don't know how to stop it, Mrs. Hughes," he finished in a rush.

William was genuinely distressed at the end of his story. Mrs. Hughes didn't know if she should be outraged or amused. It was such a far-fetched tale she couldn't help but believe it's truthfulness. William had never struck her as a liar and it definitely explained the rash of avian thefts in the village. She burst out into laughter.

"William," she said trying to compose her face into a more serious mien and failing, "is this true?"

He looked up at her through puppy-dog eyes. "It's true, Mrs. Hughes. Honest."

Mrs. Hughes believed him, but she couldn't help her laughter. It was all so surreal. How had this sweet young boy become the unwitting head of a pickpocketing ring?

Finally composing herself, Mrs. Hughes took sympathy on the poor boy. He hadn't intended for this to happen. Who would? But how could they stop the crows thieving?

"What have you done to try to stop them?"

William raised his eyes to her's in shock. "Well, I've stopped buying better bread, but it's not seemed to do anything. They just bring me even more money."

Mrs. Hughes chuckled. "I'm afraid you're going to have to stop going to the pond all-together. If you stop feeding them, eventually they'll stop stealing money."

"Oh…" William said dejectedly. "I liked going out to feed them. But I guess if it will stop them attacking people…"

Mrs. Hughes stood from her chair and walk over to him. She smiled kindly at him. "You've a kind soul, William, but it's gotten you into a wee bit of trouble this time." She led him to her doorway with a hand on his back. "Don't go back out to the pond for a few months, maybe longer. The crows will miss you but they'll soon get over it. And the village will thank you, too. Though," she added at his panicked look, "we'll keep this to ourselves."

William nodded relieved.

"Now, run along and help Mr. Carson in the dining room. And try not to start another criminal bird gang, please."

William grinned sheepishly at her and then bounded off up the stairs. Mrs. Hughes smiled after him for a moment and then shook her head again. A criminal bird gang! Well, a criminal crow gang, more precisely. What was a group of crows called again? A murder! She laughed to herself as she crossed back to her desk and account books. That was quite fitting. She had quite the tale for Mr. Carson this evening.

 **A/N: Siocled: roughly pronounced show-kled. Welsh for "chocolate."**

 **Inspired by a post I saw on tumblr about somebody accidentally (or not-so-accidentally) teaching crows to steal money.**


End file.
